The bibliophile's lament?

I was going to be good.  I waited until the 20th to start the book.  I did the math.  80 pages a day would get me done right around the time the next book came out.  I wondered if I could really read that many pages a day since I usually read while exercising, and I don't have an hour and a half to exercise a day.  I re-figured and decided I could do it if I read a bit extra on the extended weekend here.  (Hardly a chore.)  I could definitely get it done before the next book came out.

And then, I chose not to stop.  I had a lot of things I should've been doing with this extra day off.  I had no reason not to do them.  I didn't do them anyway because it was snowing dreamily outside and what I wanted to do was read this book.  So I did. 

To punish myself for this lapse of self-control, I think I shall get myself on that strict sleeping and waking schedule I need to be on starting tomorrow morning.  And there will not be this wonderful book to read in the meantime.  And I will get all the things done on my list this week, and I will not whine about it.

I don't feel as guilty as I should because this book is wonderful and worth it.